Chapter 250: The Conservative Alliance
Warner Buckwell led over two hundred soldiers to the Nightfort, supplemented by hundreds of warriors sent by the Flint clan. This ensured the operation was well-manned and proceeded quite smoothly.
Egger had no desire to know the specific details of the raid on the new Gift-dweller village to capture the culprit, so he did not ask Warner for a detailed report. There was no doubt, however, that the operation encountered the expected resistance and obstruction. Unfortunately for the villagers, they were up against fully armed soldiers while they lacked even decent weapons. By displaying only half the decisiveness and drive the commander had shown during the raid on the Red Keep and the attack on the Stark soldiers, the riot was easily quelled.
The former Free Folk, organized by tribes, each lived like a massive extended family. To survive the harsh environment beyond the Wall, their internal solidarity reached levels unimaginable to those south of the Wall. However, the solidarity between different tribes was nowhere near as high as the Night's Watch had initially feared.
After a bloody arrest and suppression, the small Tull tribe—numbering fewer than three hundred, the site of Meera Reed's near-assault and Commander Mormont's accident—saw its adult male population reduced to zero. The women and children were forcibly distributed among dozens of other tribes, and the Tull name was struck from the world forever. In response, not only was there no movement from other new Gift-dweller villages, but those visited by Jon and the two Wildling women decisively sent representatives to Castle Black to attend Mormont's funeral and publicly endorse the Watch's handling of the Tull tribe.
As for the true culprit, by the time he was brought before the officers of the Night's Watch, he had long since lost the ability to speak for himself. His mangled, barely human appearance was difficult even for Egger and the high-ranking officers to look upon. Frowning, they sentenced the man to death for violating the laws of the Gift and guest right, then quickly granted him a swift end. His body was hung from the gallows outside the gates of Castle Black as a warning and deterrent to the rest of the new Gift-dwellers.
Truth and justice? In the face of the big picture, they weren't worth a damn.
Strong-armed suppression and hanging bodies in prominent spots along major thoroughfares as warnings were sights and savage methods Egger had only seen in games and movies before his transmigration. In this backward world, however, they were precisely the most simple and cost-effective means of warning. The effect was far better than any number of legal awareness campaigns Egger's staff could have conducted.
In Buckwell's original plan, he wanted to hang every single rioter killed during the suppression on gallows or trees along the Kingsroad from the Wall and Castle Black to Queenscrown, spaced every few miles, to ensure every new Gift-dweller would constantly see the price of rebellion. Egger, however, felt this was too hostile and would do more harm than good for stability, so he vetoed the proposal.
"The chief culprit has been executed. Before the election for the next Lord Commander begins, I wish to apply to add certain provisions to the laws of the Gift—establishing a strict collective responsibility mechanism. If one person breaks the law, their family, relatives, and neighbors will share the punishment," Egger stated. "This way, we can utilize the new Gift-dwellers to monitor one another, greatly reducing the pressure and cost of law enforcement in the Gift."
"A fine proposal," said Denys Mallister, commander of the Shadow Tower, with a pleasant smile. "But Lord Cotter Pyke, Lord Bowen Marsh, and I have a different idea. The three of us have reached an agreement: to suspend the Gift resettlement plan."
The three primary figures of the conservative faction had reached an agreement?
Egger felt a chill in his heart but remained composed. "Oh? Then, Ser Denys, have you already decided how to handle the new Gift-dwellers who have already passed through the Wall?"
"Send them back north... of course, they won't be willing. But there are other paths. You've already reached an agreement with the Iron Bank to secure relief grain through loans. The Braavosi ships bring grain here and surely return empty. Let the sav—ahem, the new Gift-dwellers—take ships across the Narrow Sea and find their own way."
"Find their own way?" Egger let out a forced laugh. "My lords, you cannot be unaware of what it's like across the Narrow Sea. Once the new Gift-dwellers arrive there, they have no path forward other than falling into slavery. That is equivalent to slave trading. I recall Commander Mormont's son, Jorah Mormont, was sentenced to death by Lord Eddard Stark for that very crime."
"We aren't taking money, so how can it be considered slave trading?" Bowen Marsh abandoned his usual stiff expression, a strange, defiant look appearing on his relaxed face. "Besides, regardless of the outcome, being a slave is better than being killed by the Others and raised again. If they meet a generous master, they might live more comfortably than we do."
Sophistry—Egger's own specialty. Now, however, the side effects of using this tactic too often were manifesting: even his opponents had learned it!
Fortunately, Egger had one final line of defense to hold: "I understand. But the question I wish to ask is—my lords, have you reached an agreement on the candidate for the next Lord Commander?"
"Not yet, but whoever is elected, this is what we shall do."
"'Whoever is elected'? Then you haven't reached an agreement." Egger clenched his fists. "My apologies, lords—I, the general overseer of the Gift resettlement plan, obey only the orders of the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. Once a new Commander is chosen, I will follow those instructions. But until then, I am responsible only to the commands already issued by Commander Mormont."
With this trump card played, the group was left speechless. In life, many things cannot be done or become very troublesome if one follows the rules strictly, but if a stubborn fool insists on doing so, no one can say a word against it. Egger was now playing exactly that role.
"In that case, it seems we have no choice but to elect a Commander as quickly as possible," Denys Mallister said with a smile, looking toward Cotter Pyke. "Next, let us have a fair and just ballot."
"My thoughts exactly," the commander of Eastwatch replied, meeting his old rival's gaze without hesitation.
As veterans of the Order who had contested the Lord Commandership with Jeor Mormont, Cotter Pyke, Bowen Marsh, and Denys Mallister all knew very well: barring an accident, the next Lord Commander would certainly be one of them.
Originally, they were worried that the suddenly prominent "Lord Logistics Officer" might charge out as a dark horse. They had agreed to push Egger out of the race first—for this reason, Cotter Pyke had specifically brought the Vale lords from Eastwatch. But now, as the latter publicly announced he would not participate in the election and had swiftly punished the killer of Mormont with startling decisiveness, he had given the entire Watch an explanation.
Now, setting aside Bowen Marsh, at least the commanders of Eastwatch and the Shadow Tower had neither reason nor means left to move against Egger.
After all, they had no personal grudges or enmity with him.
Having successfully diverted the old men's spears from himself and toward one another, Egger wiped the cold sweat from his forehead as he stepped out of the meeting room. Samwell Tarly's suggestion had inadvertently saved him from massive trouble. One could imagine that if the three main candidates had conspired to deal with him, and he had rolled up his sleeves to lead the severely underpowered reformists into a decisive battle by entering the election directly... the targeted response awaiting him would have been a tempest.
By then, forget about his past history of allegedly fleeing while his comrades fought the Others or his cozy ties with the Lannisters in King's Landing—they would have dug up every bit of dirt, including rumors of keeping a mistress in the capital or the black material about making a certain little boy bleed through his breeches.
Even if he wasn't toppled, he would have been harassed to the point of exhaustion, unable to spare any energy for actual work.
The power and methods of the conservatives exceeded his expectations. Although he had narrowly avoided a disaster and intended to use their mutual competition to temporarily push the resettlement plan forward, this was only a stopgap measure. As winter approached and his progress in building a miniature kingdom continued, the Gift eventually needed an authoritative figure whose word carried weight.
If he wanted to finish the grand game he had planned, he had to become that person. To achieve that, sitting idly in Castle Black making campaign speeches to win hearts was far from enough. He had to pick up the pace.
Egger once again felt the lash of fate driving him forward. To ensure that the massive bets he had placed didn't dissolve into nothing, he had no choice but to start running at full speed.
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